Bubble bath
by Shiv5468
Summary: HGSS Answer to WIkkt bubble bath challenge.
1. Default Chapter

Hermione stared blankly at the wall. It was so nice not having to think about anything, not about Harry, not about Ron and above all not about the impending NEWTS. "Odd that I should dread those most of all, when once I would have looked forward to them", she thought.  
  
It should be a sign of returning to normality, of returning to being children for a while before going out into the wide world all bright eyed and eager. But it wasn't working like that. The truth was Hogwarts was too small for them now, like outgrowing a favourite pair of shoes, and they were beginning to chafe at the restrictions placed on them.  
  
How could they take seriously rules about the Forbidden Forest, when they had faced and defeated greater dangers than whatever lurked there? How could they take detention with Filch seriously after Lucius Malfoy? She smiled a very Snape-like smile at the thought of Malfoy locked up in Azkaban.  
  
Ron said that she and Snape had been spending too much time together and she was picking up too many of his bad habits. She had enjoyed the look of shock on his face when he thought she was serious about taking ten points off Gryffindor for "lack of respect towards a teacher". The three of them had collapsed into giggles, and they had laughed, really laughed, for the first time since Voldemort.  
  
Maybe they would never be innocent children again - but when had they ever been afforded that luxury anyway? The first week at Hogwarts? The second maybe? - but they would find their way back to something. And they still had each other.  
  
Not just each other either.  
  
Harry had Lavender. Who would have thought silly Lavender would have been the one to bring Harry out of his isolation. Ron had his family who hadn't let him dwell on anything for a second, and he had Luna who gave him .well..goodness only knew.  
  
And she had Severus. Sort of.  
  
In a spirit of rebellion, Hermione summoned a bottle of champagne. What did she have to celebrate? Reaching the end of another week without hexing someone into oblivion when they asked for her help in revising? Read the bloody book, she wanted to shout. Read your notes, ask your teacher, just leave.me.alone.  
  
Of course she couldn't, and she didn't, but she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. And so she had started spending more and more time down in the dungeons with Snape. No one bothered her there, and he didn't expect her to CONFORM - to be a good little Head Girl.  
  
At first they had sat in silence in his office. He did his marking, and she did her homework or just read. Gradually conversation crept in, and before long they were discussing Muggle literature, exchanging books, and vying with each other to see who could come up with the most scathing denunciation of Fudge's personality. Severus won, but only by a hair.  
  
He had invited her into his private quarters one evening to select a new book to read, and somehow after that it seemed more natural to sit in there where it was warmer. It was also where Severus kept his Firewhiskey. When she confessed that she couldn't get any peace even in the Prefect's bathroom, he had offered to let her use his bath whilst he was on his rounds. "Provided, that is, you clear it up afterwards, Miss Granger, and that you don't leave damp towels lying on the floor."  
  
So had begun the Friday night ritual. They met only in passing as he went on his rounds, and she could spend up to two hours soaking in bubbles in the light cast by the sandalwood scented candles. One evening, on a whim, she had conjured a yellow plastic duck, and she had amused herself imagining his face when he had found it there afterwards. What would he make of it?  
  
So, here she was, up to her neck in a very warm bath, gazing at the wall opposite blankly.  
  
Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of someone's footsteps. She was surprised when the door was pushed open, and was confronted with Professor McGonagall.  
  
"There you are, Miss Granger. I have been trying to catch you to have a little word on your own."  
  
Hermione was dumbstruck. Expulsion seemed the most likely result of this evening, regardless of how utterly devoid of actual impropriety. The appearance of wrongdoing was enough, and McGonagall was not the sort to turn a blind eye to anything.  
  
"What did you want to speak to me about, Professor?" she said, thinking what a stupid question it was. How about the fact you are naked in Professor's Snape's bathroom?  
  
"I have been aware for some time that you and Severus have been getting shall we say... closer."  
  
"Nothing has happened, Professor," Hermione interrupted desperately. "Nothing at all. Professor Snape has just been kind enough to allow me to use his bathroom so I can get some peace and quiet, that's all. "  
  
McGonagall's face softened. "Goodness me, Hermione. I know you haven't been doing anything! You're not in trouble in anyway. I know Professor Snape would not take advantage of a student in his care."  
  
Hermione relaxed back into the bath.  
  
"Which is really rather the point, I suppose. You'll have to make the first move, you know. He won't."  
  
Hermione stared at her in shock. "Pardon?"  
  
"If you want Severus, you will have to make the first move. Really, dear, for a bright girl sometimes you are slow on the uptake."  
  
"But. but." Fleetingly Hermione wondered if someone was using polyjuice to impersonate the Headmistress, the conversation was so bizarre. "He's my teacher."  
  
"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. After the events of this year, you can hardly be treated as a child anymore. I have no worries that Severus is taking advantage of you in any way. In fact, if anyone is the vulnerable one in this relationship, it's Severus."  
  
Before Hermione could think of anything more sensible to say, she blurted out, "You think he's interested in me, then?"  
  
"Absolutely besotted. You may not think it, but Severus is a very shy and private man. He's let you into his private quarters, he's let you into his life, but he won't ask you into his bed. If that's where you want to end up, you'll have to do all the chasing. And if that isn't where you want to end up, then perhaps you ought to spend less time here. For his sake."  
  
Professor McGonagall turned to go. "I'll leave you to think about it, dear."  
  
As far as Hermione was concerned, she didn't have to think about 'whether' for long. But the 'how', the 'how' was much more difficult. She ran though various scenarios in her mind, but somehow she couldn't see herself asking him 'whether that was a rubber ducky in his pocket or are you just pleased to see me'. She wasn't a sultry, seductive siren, and if she said something like that he was more likely to deduct points than respond in kind.  
  
She spent so long worrying about what to do that events overtook her. A sudden noise made her look up to see Severus in a dark green dressing gown standing in the doorway. He flushed and stammered, "I'm sorry Hermione, I thought that you would have finished by now. I had no idea you were still here."  
  
A wave of terror passed through her at the thought of what she was about to do. Her hopes were lifted by the fact that he was still in the room, and seemed to be interested in the rise of her breasts peeking out from the foam.  
  
She sat up to give him a better view. It wasn't subtle, but hopefully it would be effective, and she felt that she needed all the help she could get to carry her over the next few minutes.  
  
"Did you want to have a bath, Severus," she asked mock-innocently.  
  
"Er.yes?" he answered, almost like one of his students in a potions class, hoping against hope that they were giving the right answer.  
  
She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way, if not seductive, and picked up the back-scrubber. 'I'll wash your back for you if you like?' 


	2. Chapter two in which severus gives hi...

Bubble Bath 2  
  
"I'll wash your back for you if you like?"  
  
There was a horrid moment of absolute silence. Hermione thought that she may have just made the biggest mistake of her life. She tried to slide back under the suds, which suddenly seemed a very insubstantial barrier between her and embarrassment.  
  
Snape's face froze in between one expression and the next, caught with his mouth open.  
  
In other circumstances, Hermione thought she would find that fact that Severus Snape was capable of being shocked amusing. Now she was just wishing that her wand was in her hand, that she had obtained her Apparation licence, and, whilst she was at it, she thought wryly, she may as well wish that the Anti-apparation wards at Hogwarts had been taken down. It was all about as likely as getting a positive response from the frozen statue that was Professor Snape.  
  
She was trying to work out some way of making it out of the bathroom with her dignity intact - fat chance of that - or at least without showing any more flesh that was strictly necessary, when something of her uncertainty must have registered with Severus.  
  
He opened his mouth to speak. For a moment she thought he was going to say something to smoothe over the awkwardness they now found themselves in, and allow her to escape to her room and cry her eyes out.  
  
He seemed to think better of what he was going to say, then, taking another breath, he said, "I don't find that sort of comment entertaining, Miss Granger. Such puerile remarks may pass for wit amongst your dullard Gryffindor cronies, but I can assure you that I am not amused."  
  
Only Severus would think that a naked young lady sitting in his bath and offering to scrub his back was trying to have a joke at his expense.  
  
"I can assure you, Severus, that my Gryffindor cronies not dullards. They," she stressed, "would at least have the brains to recognise when someone is making a pass at them, and have the consideration to treat such an offer with the courtesy it merits."  
  
He blinked, then his expression softened. He looked intrigued and horrified in about equal proportions.  
  
The sense of anticipation was painful. Her heart was beating triple time. Would he say yes, now that he knew she was serious? He watched her breasts as she took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. Seeing his dark eyes glitter with some strong emotion gave her hope.  
  
He sighed. That sounded ominous. "I'm sorry, Miss Grang.. Hermione, but it would be totally inappropriate to take you up on your suggestion whilst you are still a student at Hogwarts."  
  
So, he's interested. The very least she was coming away with was an agreement to defer things for the three weeks left of school. Hermione had never been a very patient girl, and she wasn't keen to wait that long. Besides the notion that she was in some way vulnerable and in need of protection from Big Bad Professors this week, but not next month was just silly.  
  
"I now what I am doing. I am not a child. If I was old enough to face Voldermort, I am certainly old enough to decide who I want to sleep with."  
  
"Nonetheless." He was adamant. "I must ask you to leave."  
  
"If you insist," she said calmly. "Hand me a towel, will you," and with that she stood up, allowing the foam to slide down her glistening body.  
  
Hermione found the fact that he hadn't handed her the towel encouraging. Actually, she found the fact that he hadn't run screaming from the room encouraging. Nor had he burst out laughing, or made some comment about crude Gryffindor seduction tactics lacking finesse. All of which he was perfectly capable of if he wasn't interested in her. But what was most encouraging of all was the way he was tracking the movement of one particular dribble of foam making its way from her breast to her thigh.  
  
That was the look of a man fighting a battle with his conscience and losing.  
  
She stepped out of the bath and moved to the towel rail. Picking up the smallest one there, she began to dry herself off. He watched her movements with interest, leaning one shoulder casually against the wall, but made no move to touch her. "There," she said brightly. "All done. I'll leave to your bath then."  
  
He didn't say anything, but straightened from his slouch. He undid the belt of his robe, slipped it from his shoulders, and hung it on a hook on the wall. When he turned back he caught her looking at the musculature of his thighs and buttocks. The view from the front was even better though, and it was clear that his conscience was most definitely on holiday. He had liked what he had seen. And she liked what she was seeing.  
  
Her mouth dry, she watched as he eased himself into the bath.  
  
"Perhaps I will take you up on that offer after all," he said.  
  
A/N I have set up a yahoo group for those of you who wanted to be notified of updates. I will also be posting there my entry for the NaNoWriMo competition (which basically asks you to write 50,000 words before 30/11) in November before editing it and posting it here. See my profile for details. 


	3. Chapter three

Hermione's sense of triumph didn't last long. It was replaced in fairly short order by the sense that she was completely in over her depth.  
  
She wasn't a virgin, the war had tended to concentrate everyone's minds in the direction of sex. This didn't mean that she was well versed in the art of seduction thought. All it had taken to get Ron into bed was the simple question, "Look do you want to die a virgin, because I don't?" Apparently he had been so impressed with the line that he had used to great success several times himself, mainly on Hufflepuffs. No self-respecting Slytherin would admit to being a virgin, and no self-respecting Ravenclaw would say anything other than, "Given the choices available to me, yes!"  
  
He hadn't been very good the first time, but she had made him keep going until he got it right, despite his complaints that he hadn't expected sex to be conducted as though it were a NEWT. For a couple of days after that he had given her a very wide berth with a wild look in his eyes, but he calmed down a little when she informed him that she had only been using him for sex. Occasionally she would catch him giving her looks of bewilderment, but now he had a girlfriend he seemed less jumpy.  
  
Hermione thought that his girlfriend had a lot to thank her for. By the tenth time he was actually getting to be quite good.  
  
Having now secured Severus's agreement to being seduced, she had absolutely no idea how to go about it. Running from the room in terror was not an option, however tempting it might seem at the moment. She was a Gryffindor. She was brave. She also thought Severus would never forgive her. It certainly wasn't the action of the mature, sensible adult she had been trying to argue she should be treated as.  
  
Severus was looking at her oddly. Obviously she had to do something, and quickly. She wrapped a towel round herself. She took a deep breath, stepped closer to the tub, and picked up the backscrubber. Then she hurled it through the bathroom door, being rewarded with a loud crash, and leaned over Severus for their first kiss.  
  
It was everything she had hoped for. All those stupid Romances that Lavender spent her time reading were right after all - after Ron she had doubted it - there were butterflies in her stomach. It turned out that the books were also right about a whole range of other things. Her knees actually went weak, and she tipped over into the bath. Severus didn't seem to mind the company.  
  
He muttered, "I think you broke my mirror."  
  
"Bugger your mirror."  
  
"Good point, well made."  
  
Very little was said for the next few minutes, which passed in a very satisfying fashion. Severus very kindly helped Hermione out of her wet towel. As he pointed out, it wasn't very sensible to wear it in the bath, and Hermione had always prided herself on being sensible.  
  
It landed on the bathroom floor with a squelch. Hermione briefly stopped exploring Severus's mouth with her tongue to comment that there was going to be a hell of a mess for the houselves to clear up.  
  
"Bugger the houselves," he said.  
  
"Good point, well made." Hermione, devoted campaigner of house elf rights had for once decided that there was something more important than equality and freedom - what Ron would call a bloody good knobbing. And whilst Hermione had a wholly unsuspected romantic streak, she was bright enough to realise that that was what she wanted. Romance in the form of flowers and chocolates would be very welcome - a point she intended to make very clear to Severus in due course - but right now she had more important matters in hand.  
  
Very much to hand.  
  
Severus had his head tipped back on the edge of the bath, and was drawing in desperate breaths through his open mouth.  
  
"Do you like that, Severus?" she asked in what she hoped was a sultry tone.  
  
He opened one eye, fixed her with his best potions master glare and replied, "If you could refrain from asking questions when the answer should be obvious to even the meanest intellect I would be very grateful, Miss Granger." It would have been more impressive if he hadn't been badly out of breath.  
  
She stopped what she was doing.  
  
Both eyes opened. Little Slytherin brain cells were clearly ticking over behind those glittering eyes. Should she be worried? He smirked. She definitely ought to be worried.  
  
Then he was rolling her underneath him as a great wave of water surged out of the tub, and fitting his body to her and then in her. There was a few crowded moments before they found the best way to move together.  
  
She rather expected him to pay her back in kind, but it seemed that if this had been his intention he had changed his mind. For which mercy much thanks, she thought vaguely before giving up thinking up completely.  
  
She had expected him to make love like he made his potions, with quiet intensity and careful attention to detail. Instead, he was passionate and wild, with hands that wandered everywhere, and a mouth that had attached itself to her neck with an enthusiasm that was going to leave marks.  
  
She came just before he did, and as they lay their in the afterglow they became aware of just how chilly the water had become, and just how little of it was left in the bath.  
  
He huffed at the hair that was dangling in his face, so she tucked it back behind his ear. He leaned forward again and half-whispered half-growled in her ear, "Did you like that, Hermione?"  
  
She toyed with the idea of saying something witty, but, based on her limited experiences with Ron, this was probably not the time to make a joke so she contented herself with heartfelt assurances. "You were absolutely fcuking fabulous, Severus."  
  
He levered himself out of the bath, and then gave her a helping hand out. They surveyed the wreck of the room ruefully. There were sopping towels everywhere, little cotton islands in a sea of water.  
  
"It's way past curfew," he said, "and you should be in bed."  
  
"I know," she said, picking up her clothes, trying to work out the best way back to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
He moved across to her, plucked the clothes from her hands, and threw them across the room where they landed in a puddle.  
  
"I didn't say whose bed, now did I? 


	4. chapter four

Hermione woke up with in her own bed with the disconcerting feeling that she was in the wrong place. It took her sleepy brain several seconds to work out that she had expected to wake up in Severus's private quarters, in his bed, and preferably to a repeat performance. Fortunately, depending on how you look at it she thought wryly, he had obviously thought it wiser for her to wake in her own room rather than try and sneak back in the early hours of the morning.  
  
She stretched, yawning, and winced as several muscles reminded her of quite how vigorous the evening's activities had been. A bath was called for, but she would have to settle for a shower as it was nearly breakfast time.  
  
She wondered if it would be as much effort to get Severus back into bed, or had last night overcome his moral qualms. Ah well time to get up.  
  
As she descended the stairs to the Great Hall, she saw Professor McGonagall standing at the entrance.  
  
"Good morning, Miss Granger", she said. "I hope you haven't been studying too hard?  
  
"No, Professor." She felt the urge to share her happiness with someone, and it was only fair that the Professor should know about her and Severus bearing in mind she had been instrumental in bringing it all about. "I took your advice".  
  
Professor McGonagall looked puzzled. "What advice was that, dear?"  
  
Hermione got the message. It was to be their little secret. "oh, just that I shouldn't work so hard and should get some outside interests," she said airily, laying just a little emphasis on 'outside'.  
  
"I don't remember giving you that advice, but it seems like a very sensible idea to me. All work and no play.." and with a broad smile she was off to the teacher's table for breakfast.  
  
Hermione watched her go with a fond smile on her face.  
  
For some reason Hermione was absolutely starving. She loaded her breakfast plate with scrambled eggs, mushrooms in cream sauce, some fried tomatoes, and maybe some of the potatoes if that wasn't too piggy...  
  
She was surprised to find that all those innuendoes about working up an appetite actually seemed to be true. She just hoped that no one would take one look at her plate, and suddenly jump to the conclusion that she had had the shagging of a lifetime the night before.  
  
For a second hunger was outweighed by sentiment, and she dwelled on the details of the previous night.  
  
Her fond recollection was disrupted by Ron asking for the ketchup, and she had great difficulty resisting the urge to hex him. Apparently sex increased her appetite but did nothing for her irritability. It would be interesting to see if Severus - have to remember to call him Professor today - would be in a better mood in potions. Though presumably he had been in such a bad mood for so long that it would take more than one night's mind-blowing sex to improve his mood. That is, assuming that he had thought it was mind-blowing, maybe he thought it was just adequate.  
  
Oh dear, that had really taken the shine out of her day.  
  
Unable to concentrate on her pleasant daydream any more she came back to earth to hear Harry and Ron discussing Professor McGonagall.  
  
"I bet she really enjoyed seeing Albus again."  
  
"Sorry Harry", she said. "I wasn't really paying attention, what was that you just said about Professor McGonagall?"  
  
"I said", he replied in tones of infinite patience that made her wand hand itchy, "that it must have been nice for her to see Albus again."  
  
"So she went to see Albus yesterday?"  
  
"That's what I said, you really need to concentrate on something other than NEWTS Hermione," he said.  
  
"When exactly was this?"  
  
"Yesterday."  
  
"When exactly yesterday?" she snapped. Seeing his look of shock, she continued, "Sorry, Harry, but its very important. I thought I spoke to her last night at about 9pm, and she .." she couldn't think of a single reason why the Headmistress would be talking to her, that would give her a good reason to be worried that it was the right person, then it hit her - tap into their most basic fears - ". she gave me some extra homework. I wouldn't want to waste my time doing it, if it was someone's idea of a practical joke."  
  
They both looked suitably horrified. "I think she got back this morning, so it couldn't have been her that you spoke to," said Ron.  
  
"So when I bumped into in the foyer a few minutes ago, she had just got back?  
  
"I think so. Just how much homework was it Hermione, you seem a bit upset," said Ron in a concerned tone. "I would be livid if someone had done the same thing to me."  
  
"Malfoy!" spluttered Harry. "I bet it was Malfoy. He could get to Snape's personal supplies easily! It must have been him."  
  
For a second Hermione played with the idea of letting the boys think it was Malfoy, and letting him take the flak. It was better than having to run the risk of what had really happened coming out.  
  
Resigned to appearing like a complete idiot - but not as big an idiot as she would look if they found about Severus - she slapped her forehead and said, "No, its me being silly. I remember now, it was the day before that I spoke to her."  
  
"You'll forget your own head next, Hermione! I suppose that means we can't go after Malfoy. What a shame." Harry looked disappointed.  
  
"Sorry," she said. "Mind you, I don't see why you can't go after Malfoy."  
  
"But he hasn't done anything wrong," pointed out Ron.  
  
"He's a slytherin isn't he? Just because we don't know what he's been up to, doesn't mean he isn't up to something. And even if he isn't up to something at the moment, he will be in the future. It's just about getting your retaliation in first," Hermione said. For some reason, she couldn't quite put her finger on she was feeling quite anti-slytherin today.  
  
The boys were struck by her logic and immediately started plotting, leaving her in peace to do some plotting of her own.  
  
Bastard.  
  
He was going to pay, oh HOW he was going to pay, for that little escapade. Gryffindor pride demanded it.  
  
She had come so close to disaster this morning - one word out of place and both Severus and she would have been out of here before you could say, "Severus Snape is a lying, deceiving bastard."  
  
Then it came to her. He didn't know that she knew, so all she had to do was strike up a conversation with the Headmistress about something. Hopefully he would sweat bullets worrying about his little scheme being uncovered. Hadn't thought that one through had he? Hadn't thought any of it through, really. Which was reassuring in a way. He was obviously thinking with his other, smaller brain, which meant two things. The first was, that maybe he was just a little besotted. The other, and perhaps more important thing right now, was that he would be an easier mark.  
  
She told the boys that she had to have another word with Professor McGonagall, and set them scurrying off to Potions. "Be sure to tell Professor Snape where I have gone," she said, "or he will be taking points of Gryffindor."  
  
She watched them go with a smile like a shark. If the boys had been paying attention they would have thought that it was more Snape-like than Snape. "Lets see if the student can outdo the Master, shall we?" she thought. 


	5. seconds out round one

Hermione wandered into potions a good ten minutes late. Her air of calm insouciance was entirely assumed. Not that she was anxious about Snape's reaction, oh no, but because she was worried about her own.  
  
She was torn between pinning him to the desk and rogering him senseless, or shouting abuse at him. Neither of which would play well to an audience.  
  
Still, if she played her cards right, she could get to do both.  
  
"Miss Granger," came those silky tones. "Merely because you are Head Girl does not give you the right to turn up to lessons late. See me immediately after class to arrange a detention."  
  
"Professor Snape, I had to speak to Profesor McGonagall quite urgently."  
  
"Nonetheless, you should have been here on time. You already have one detention for lateness. Do you want to have another detention for disrespect for a teacher?"  
  
Hermione searched his face for some reaction to the news she had spoken to McGonagall, but there was nothing visible. Then again, he hadn't spent five years spying on Lord Voldemort and lived to tell the tale by being easy to read.  
  
She meekly answered, "No, Sir," and moved to take her seat. Harry and Ron were making faces at Severus behind his back to show their solidarity with her. She opened her textbook and began idly flicking through the pages. She had a lot to think about before her detention tonight. It looked like getting one over on Professor Snape was going to be harder than she had originally thought.  
  
Severus Snape was livid. How dare she turn up to class late? How dare she? Surely she didn't expect to get special treatment just because they had been.. intimate.. the night before? He stormed around the classroom, deducting points at random, even from his pet Slytherins.  
  
Suddenly he stopped as a thought struck him. Of course! She was trying to get a detention so they could spend more time together. Clever girl. Perhaps she even had a detention fantasy? That could be . interesting. Several fascinating scenarios ran through his heated imagination, and he rather absent-mindedly gave Longbottom ten points.  
  
The Gryffindors were horrified to see the Professor standing stock still in the middle of the classroom with a scary grin on his face and his eyes fixed on Hermione.  
  
Harry nudged her to get her attention. "Look," he hissed. "Look at Snape. He's giving you the evil eye."  
  
Hermione just shrugged. "He's probably planning all the bad things he's going to do to me in detention." She was mildly disturbed to see him wink at her. What on earth had got into him?  
  
Severus was wondering the same thing. He felt a little giddy, and had an unaccustomed fluttering in his stomach. He rather thought he was happy, but he didn't have enough experience to be sure. It could just be indigestion.  
  
He was a little bewildered when he made the arrangements with Hermione for detention at 8pm that evening. It seemed that the detention fantasy was too much to hope for, but he couldn't for the life of him work out what had put her into such a foul mood.  
  
A dreadful thought hit him during lunch. He had of course heard the rumours about her tryst with Weasley - who in the school hadn't. Perhaps his performance hadn't been up to par. He cringed at the thought that Weasley had been better than him. He consoled himself with the thought that she hadn't complained the night before, and by all accounts she hadn't been slow to communicate her dissatisfaction to Ron.  
  
He remained worried throughout the afternoon's lessons, remaining uncharacteristically silent and barely managing to take thirty points off Gryffindor. Dinner was a nightmare, and he retired to the dungeons to fret in peace.  
  
Dammit! Rumour had it that Weasley was allowed at least ten attempts to get it right. There was the bath, he raised one finger, the sofa, two fingers raised, the bed, five fingers raised. He was allowed another five tries, it was only fair. He consoled himself with the thought that Gryffindors were renowned for being fair. Unless. unless. the awful realisation hit him, she was complaining about quantity and not quality. Or, even worse, both.  
  
Consequently, by the time Hermione arrived he had worked himself up into something of a state. As soon as she crossed the threshold he blurted out, "What's the matter?"  
  
Hermione took that as an admission, if not of guilt, but at least a sign that he had something to be guilty about. "You know every well what's the matter. Don't try and play the innocent with me, Severus Snape."  
  
He flinched. "Surely it wasn't that bad? You seemed to be enjoying it at the time."  
  
Hermione was speechless. This wasn't going as she had expected. "And you think that makes it alright?"  
  
"Doesn't it?" He was confused.  
  
It was apparently the wrong thing the say because it started Hermione on a long rant which apparently dealt with his perfidy, stupidity and something to do with polyjuice potion. Nothing, however, about his failings in bed which was a relief but. "What on earth are you talking about Hermione?"  
  
"Minerva. Polyjuice. Last night. Surely I don't have to spell it out for you?" Looking into his blank face she realised that he had absolutely no idea what she was referring to. Which meant that someone else was the guilty party. "Shit," she said.  
  
It took barely five minutes to explain what had happened the night before, and barely six minutes for the implications to sink in.  
  
"Good God, Hermione, didn't you know that Minerva was going to visit Albus last night?"  
  
"Obviously not," she snapped.  
  
He paced around the room. "Couldn't you tell? Didn't she seem a bit odd?"  
  
"For heaven's sake, Severus, I'm a teenage girl full of raging hormones. I was just thinking about sex. I wasn't really thinking about who this person was standing in the bathroom talking to me. It looked like McGonagall, I naturally assumed it was McGonagall."  
  
"And it didn't seem strange to you that the Vestal Virgin of Hogwarts suggested that you should try and seduce me?"  
  
"What part of my last statement did you not understand," she said in exasperation. "I was just thinking about how I was going to get you into bed."  
  
"You mean you find me physically attractive." He hadn't meant to say that, there were more important issues at hand, weren't there?  
  
"Yes." There was a very loud and obvious der at the end of that sentence despite Hermione not actually vocalising it.  
  
"Gosh." He sat down on the sofa.  
  
"Well why else would I have slept with you last night? Not that there was a lot of sleeping involved as I recall." She smiled a smile that would have put the Cheshire Cat and the Cat who got at the cream to shame.  
  
"I thought perhaps you might be attracted to my.. personality. I am aware that I am not an attractive man," he said painfully. "I thought that perhaps you had come to enjoy the time we spent together and the conversations we had. A meeting of minds, you might say, rather than being physically attracted to me."  
  
Hermione resisted the urge to laugh in his face. Having the disposition of a porcupine with piles was not normally associated with being irresistible to women. She smiled, "That too."  
  
She crossed the room to where he was sitting. "You have beautiful hands," she said, kissing them. "And you have beautiful eyes." She kissed his eyelids too. "And you have a very sexy voice." She kissed his lips, then pulled back a little and said, "And besides, you're hung like a donkey and shag like a demon."  
  
So he pulled her down onto the sofa and proceeded to prove her right.  
  
At some point during a fairly hectic night they managed to make it into bed. Hermione was just on the point of falling into very welcome slumber when suddenly Severus sat bolt upright next to her and said, "Draco Malfoy."  
  
"Severus, traditionally it is considered impolite to shout other people's names when you are in bed with your lover. Particularly when it is the name of another man."  
  
"I think that only applies when you come", he replied, smirking.  
  
"That is a very disturbing image, I could well have done without. So you think it was Draco Malfoy then, what are you going to do about it?"  
  
"Buy him a very expensive present?" he offered. "I don't know what he thought he was playing at, but it seems to me he's done me a very big favour and deserves some sort of reward."  
  
"Severus," she said sweetly, "can you remember what I looked like in the bath last night." From the sudden fire in his eyes it appeared he could. He was lost in reminiscence for a moment, and was gazing at her chest lovingly when the penny dropped.  
  
"You mean he's seen your tits."  
  
"I would have put the matter a little more delicately than that, but that is the essential point."  
  
"I'll kill the little bugger."  
  
Hermione relaxed in the certain knowledge that getting Snape to do what she wanted was almost certainly going to be fairly easy.  
  
And Draco Malfoy was going to be toast. 


	6. in which the culprit is revealed

Deblovesdragon - its not yeh you for guessing right - until you wrote that review it was actually going to be Minerva. After all she would be hardly any more out of character than Dumbledore in telling Hermione to go for it! But then the devious little plot bunny started.  
  
Severus's suspicions about Malfoy were confirmed, at least to Hermione's satisfaction the next morning at breakfast. Not that she'd had much doubt. He seemed the most likely candidate when you considered opportunity - he was most likely to be able to break into Snape's stores and steal the polyjuice and Severus had admitted that Draco had access to his private rooms. She didn't ask why. There were some things she was probably better of not knowing. She was eyeing another plate piled high with food with rueful amusement, when she was surprised by a jawbreaking yawn. Her eyes met Draco's across the table, and she could tell from his smug grin that he knew why she was tired and hungry.  
  
His amusement faded when she smiled back at him. Not the contented, dreamy smile of a sated woman, but the feral grin of a woman who could see into the future and knew exactly what it held for annoying little Slytherins. A sideways glance to Severus confirmed Draco's fears. He was in trouble.  
  
He had expected a little more gratitude, but from the gleam in Severus's eye he was going to be bitterly disappointed. After all, it wasn't as if either of them had crowds of people beating their door down begging them for a shag. They should definitely be grateful to him.  
  
He suddenly realised that he was smirking, and that was probably unwise in the present circumstances. The rest of his face seemed to be trying to distance itself from the smirk in embarrassment.  
  
Oh shit, he was really in trouble now. Time for a little damage limitation. Or blackmail as sterner critics would have it.  
  
Hermione left breakfast before her devoted followers, giving him an opportunity to corner her alone on one of the staircases to the second floor.  
  
"Well, Granger. You certainly look . tired this morning," he said, leering at her suggestively.  
  
"I've been studying hard for the NEWTS, Malfoy. What's your point?" she replied calmly.  
  
"Studying eh?  
  
She decided to take the bull by the horns, or she would have to stand there for hours listening to what passed for wit and innuendo. She wouldn't want to waste any of her precious Saturday on him at the best of times, and it wasn't the best of times. She badly needed to catch up on some sleep.  
  
"Yes. Professor Snape has been kind enough to offer me some extra tuition in potions." That should bring matters to a head nicely she thought, and sure enough the little ferret could resist the chance to sneer.  
  
"I am sure that Professor Dumbledore would be surprised but delighted to hear that Professor Snape had decided to take a Gryffindor under his wing in that way. Perhaps I ought to ask for some extra coaching as well."  
  
Over my dead body. On second thoughts. Over your dead body. "I don't think you need any extra help with potions, do you Malfoy? I'm sure Dumbledore would be delighted, but not surprised, to hear how well you are doing in that area." Hermione was overjoyed to be able to introduce Draco to a muggle concept - mutually assured destruction. The little tosser couldn't dob her in for extra-curricular shagging without admitting his own part in bringing those activities about. Result - a draw. Until Severus took a hand anyway.  
  
He took the point immediately. He decided to try another track. "You really ought to be thanking me, Granger. You two would never have got it together without my help."  
  
"Now that I doubt. It might have taken a little longer but it would have happened."  
  
"I still don't see what the problem is?"  
  
Hermione declined to mention the nakedness issue. "The problem, Malfoy, that you seem to have so much difficulty getting your head round is that your little stunt could have got me expelled and Severus sacked."  
  
"That would have been an added bonus, I grant you but unlikely. I hardly think you were going to go up to McGonagall the next day and start discussing your sex life . Dear Merlin, Granger, you didn't?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
Her dislike of Draco only intensified when he broke out into great whoops of laughter. "How I wish I had been there to see it!"  
  
Their conversation was brought to a premature end by the arrival of Harry and Ron, who came bustling up to Hermione's rescue. As they saw it anyway. Hermione didn't think she needed rescuing at all, and was rather annoyed that this interruption would give Draco the chance to get off the hook.  
  
"What do you want Malfoy?" Ron asked aggressively, his hand hovering over his wand.  
  
"Is he bothering you, Hermione?" Harry said.  
  
A triumphant gleam sparked in Malfoy's eyes. The Boy-who-lived-twice and his little sidekick. He had found his leverage. "I was just commenting on how tired poor Hermione looks. I wonder what she's been doing so late at night?" and with that parting shot, he turned on his heel and headed off.  
  
"What was that about?" asked Harry, looking worried. "You do look awfully tired."  
  
"Thanks, Harry," she said dryly. "You know how to make a girl feel good."  
  
"Come on, Herimione. You know we don't have secrets?" whined Ron.  
  
"Malfoy was threatening to tell you who I spent last night with," she said. They looked at her in shock. Hermione. Sex. Good God.  
  
A brief look of panic flashed across Ron's face, as he remembered his short lived romance with her. He felt a fleeting empathy for the poor bloke Hermione had in her toils now. Poor sod wouldn't know what had hit him. He hadn't even been able to masturbate for a whole day after their night of passion. He has tried, almost as a matter of habit, but when he had extracted himself from his clothes it seemed to him that it was staring at him reproachfully. How could you? it seemed to be saying. How could you allow something that frightening to happen to me, your old friend? Haven't we stuck together through thick and thin, through all of adolescence, and then this? He had patted himself soothingly, and put it away. He hadn't been able to look himself in the eye.  
  
He hadn't seen anyone looking particularly traumatised this morning though, so perhaps she had been gentle with them. The look of panic returned and intensified as another thought struck him. "Please tell me you haven't," he pleaded.  
  
"Haven't what?"  
  
"Been having a fling with Malfoy?" he shuddered.  
  
Hermione laughed. "Much worse," she said cheerfully. She wasn't sure whether now was the right time to tell the boys, but they would have to be told eventually. And at least this way Malfoy wouldn't be able to keep it hanging over her head as a bargaining tool.  
  
Ron smiled. "Worse than Malfoy? Let me guess, you've been having a wild affair with Crabbe? With Goyle? With Crabbe AND Goyle?"  
  
"Worse than that."  
  
"Worse than Crabbe and Goyle? I don't believe it's possible," said Harry. "Go on, give us a clue. What house is he in?"  
  
"Slytherin," she replied.  
  
As they headed back to the Common Room, the boys entertained her with increasingly wild guesses as to the identity of her mystery lover. When reciting the names of all the Slytherin seventh years failed to get a response, they started on the girls.  
  
They settled in front of the fire, eating sweets from Honeydukes and running through as many combinations of girl/girl, boy/boy and girl/boy Slytherins they could think of.  
  
She was laughingly protesting that she was only involved with one Slytherin, and not the whole house, when Harry suddenly remembered the way Snape had looked at her in potions the day before.  
  
He hadn't been giving her the evil eye at all, he had been letching after her. It all made sense. Detention. "It has to be Snape."  
  
"No, come on mate. That's going a bit far," said Ron. His voice trailed away as he noticed Hermione's expression. Guilt, a little, and nervousness as she waited to see their reaction, but chiefly an enormous, soppy grin.  
  
"Bloody hell," Ron said in awe. "When you go off the rails, you really go off the rails, don't you?" 


	7. in which the boys bite off more than the...

Bubble Bath 7  
  
Hermione was surprised at how well the boys were taking the news. Ron's reaction was coloured by his absolute terror that Hermione might want to go out with him again, because he was a young man with his whole life in front of him. So, 'better him than me' just about summed it up, with a hint of 'poor devil'. He never thought the day would come when he would feel some sort of sympathy of Severus Snape. The thought of the poor sod at the mercy of Hermione had succeeded where crucio at the hands of Lord Voldemort had left him unmoved.  
  
Harry's response was a little more thoughtful. "Does this mean that we can get Malfoy after all?"  
  
"Let me tell you about Malfoy," she said, and proceeded to do so. She decided not to tell them about Severus's epiphany as to the identity of the impostor. She didn't think they were ready to hear that they were sharing a bed on a regular basis. And a sofa, a bath, a floor, a wall, his desk...  
  
"But why would Snape want to punish him for that. Seems to me he's done Snape a favour?" said Ron, oblivious to Hermion's increasingly stormy expression. He suddenly realised what Harry's frantic signalling was about, and with a hardly noticeable change of gear added, "After all you can't deny that he's lucky to get someone as wonderful as you, Hermione."  
  
She gave him a hard stare, but allowed him to wriggle off the hook. "The point is," she continued, "I am annoyed with the little ferret because both of us very nearly got booted out of Hogwarts; and Severus is annoyed because the little ferret saw me in the bath."  
  
They continued to look puzzled.  
  
"With no clothes on."  
  
Ah. Enlightenment dawned. She wondered what it was about men that made them oblivious to the fact that she might not be entirely happy about being seen in the bath by Draco Malfoy. First Severus, now Ron and Harry.  
  
It was fortunate that Hermione didn't see the affectionate glance that Ron gave her breasts. Seeing them for the first time was one of the happiest memories of their gruelling night of passion, before it all went horribly wrong.  
  
Hermione yawned.  
  
"You look worn out, Hermione. Why don't you have a lie down and catch up on some sleep." there was a nasty silence as the two boys realised why she was so tired before Harry rushed on ". and we'll catch up with you later."  
  
"Good idea," she said simply, and headed off to bed.  
  
Ron was still cringing at the thought of Hermione and Snape, well, at it. His sympathies had swung round to Hermione now as he thought of the poor girl lying underneath the Greasy Git as he . ugh. Best not to think about it.  
  
Harry waited until Hermione was well clear of the room before turning to Ron and saying, "Come on. I think we ought to go and see Snape."  
  
"Why?" said Ron, hurrying out of the Common Room after Harry.  
  
"Revenge."  
  
"Revenge? I don't think Snape will want our help in dealing with Malfoy."  
  
"You are an idiot sometimes, Ron. Not revenge on Malfoy. Revenge on Snape." Harry's smile was beatific. "Think about it. We can ask him all sorts of personal questions. We can ask him if his intentions are honourable. We can even threaten to hex him if he treats her badly and he has to put up with it."  
  
"You want to . you're the idiot Harry. He'll never stand for it."  
  
"He will. He has to. He has no other choice, not if he wants to keep seeing Hermione."  
  
Ron's smile was, if anything, even more evil than Harry's was. "But we'll still get Malfoy?" he queried.  
  
"Oh, yes. But first we have bigger fish to fry!"  
  
Severus was not happy to be woken from his nap by the sound of knocking at the door. He was in two minds as to whether he wanted to see Hermione at the moment. He couldn't imagine any circumstances in which he wouldn't be pleased to see her, but dear god he needed some rest. He didn't think that she would take a suggestion that they just cuddle up and go to sleep as anything other than a challenge, and he had no doubt he would rise to the occasion. He could take some Pepper Up potion, he supposed. Or one of the more exotic Lust Potions he just happened to have on hand in his private store.  
  
He had just decided to settle for slipping her a sleeping potion, resting till a light lunch, and then spending the afternoon shagging - so giving him plenty of time for an early night - when he opened the door to be confronted with Potter and Weasley.  
  
He blenched.  
  
They obviously knew about his relationship with Hermione, and his future at Hogwarts now rested in their hands. Judging by the smiles on their faces, they were well aware of it.  
  
He was tired, and he was off balance because he wasn't sure that you could call two nights of passion a relationship and he wasn't really used to being happy, but he was still Snape.  
  
He rather thought that the outcome of this particular confrontation would determine who had the upper hand going forward. It was rather like dominant bucks clashing for the right to mate with the rest of the herd. If he won, they would accept him as Hermione's whatever-he-ended-up-as. Boyfriend. Lover. Husband.  
  
Husband?  
  
If they won, he would spend the rest of his time with Hermione jockeying for position and competing for her attention.  
  
He'd do it, but he wouldn't like it.  
  
Once the initial shock faded, his brain kicked back into life and one very important fact struck him - there was no way they could tell Albus without getting Hermione into trouble. In fact, the more he thought about it the more he realised that they were just a minor annoyance. There was nothing they could actually do to him. Hermione was not likely to take their intervention in her love life very well, so they couldn't look for support there either.  
  
So, they've come down here to bluff the Head of Slytherin without any cards in their hands. He could dispose of the two of them in about half an hour, still have time for a decent nap, and be back on track for the light lunch and an afternoon with Hermione.  
  
He smiled back and had the immense pleasure of watching their smug certainty fade. Now they were wondering what he knew, and what that they hadn't thought of.  
  
Perfect. 


	8. In which Severus wins hands down

Bubble bath 8  
  
He had to give them credit though; they didn't back down. In Harry's case he suspected this was due more to stupidity than courage; not that there was necessarily a great deal of difference between the two. He said nothing but stood back to allow them into his quarters. He couldn't stifle a yawn and both boys winced. Apparently they weren't very happy at the thought of the finer details of what went on between him and Hermione. If all else failed, he could always try comparing notes with Ron. They should be heading for the door in five seconds flat.  
  
In the interests of decent relations with Hermione, he waved them to the sofa. He couldn't help smirking when he thought of what he had used it for the night before. Ron seemed to pick up on that because he gave the inoffensive piece of furniture a very hard stare before sitting down.  
  
Harry, living up to Severus's view as someone who rushed in where angels' feared to tread, fired the opening salvo in the battle for Hermione's heart and mind; and in Severus's case, body.  
  
"You'd better treat her right, you know, or you'll have to answer to me!"  
  
Severus wanted to ask quite what the little twerp thought he could do about it if he didn't treat her right. Really, Harry seemed to think that polishing off Voldemort - with a lot of help from others, and the full weight of prophecy behind him - meant he was invincible. How he itched to prove him wrong. Unfortunately, Hermione would probably object if he returned Harry to the Gryfindor common room in pieces.  
  
He wondered for a split second if it was all worth it, and then memories of the night before came flooding back. Oh yes, it definitely was worth it.  
  
So he merely assured Harry that he had every intention of treating her well.  
  
Taken aback by this mild response, Harry was at a loss for something to say. His mouth worked silently for a couple of seconds, and then he said, "I think it's disgusting the way you took advantage of Hermione."  
  
"She started it." The reply was infinitely childish, but rather good fun nonetheless. As he suspected, it added fuel to the flames. Harry was on the point of launching into a diatribe against his morals, his temperament and his appearance - all well deserved he suspected - when Ron interrupted.  
  
"Don't be daft, Harry. Hermione is perfectly capable of looking after herself. She knows what she wants, and she goes and gets it." Ron shuddered at the memories.  
  
"Yes, she does, doesn't she?" Severus said with a fond note in his voice. Severus and Ron looked at each other.  
  
Severus was surprised to feel some sympathy for the boy. Even he had some difficulty dealing with Hermione in full flow, so he could only imagine what it had been like for the poor little sod. He had no experience, no knowledge and above all no recourse to a well-stocked potions room in case of emergency.  
  
For his part for the first time in his time at Hogwarts, Ron felt a reluctant respect for Professor Snape. He had bedded Hermione and not only lived to tell the tale, but apparently had enjoyed the experience, and felt strong enough to go back for more. He supposed that dealing with Voldemort and crucio had toughened him up, but still, that was bravery of a different kind.  
  
He sighed. Harry was on to a loser here, and needed to be put into reverse as soon as possible. There was a reason he always beat Harry at Wizard's Chess.  
  
"Leave it, Harry. We're not going to get anywhere with Snape. We didn't think it through properly. He may not be able to hex us, because Hermione would get upset, but we can't be nasty to him or she'll hex us or worse."  
  
"You're not as stupid as I thought," was all that Severus said, which he thought was quite mild bearing in mind he had just been addressed as Snape. Perhaps an accommodation could be reached.  
  
Ron shrugged. "You always get overlooked when you're the sidekick. Overlooked and underestimated. I'm used to it by now."  
  
"Bloody useful though," said Severus, with some feeling. "Tends to increase your chances of survival - you've always got someone to hide behind. I always used to let Lucius go first." They both smirked at that, whilst Harry looked dim, as only Harry could. Severus felt relieved. The lad Weasley appeared to have a sense of humour and a grasp of the situation. He thought that they would at least come to an understanding, and maybe more. They could certainly have a lot of innocent fun at Harry's expense.  
  
Harry couldn't quite work out how it had happened, one minute they had been barrelling down here to have a go at Snape and rub his nose in the fact that he had to be nice to them from now on, the next Ron and Snape were acting like the best of friends. He couldn't see how it was going to get any worse.  
  
He really should have known better; whatever gods there are in the world cannot resist a cue like that.  
  
There came a knock at the door. Severus opened it to find Hermione, which was a relief in many ways. He didn't fancy explaining what the boys were doing in his room to anyone else.  
  
"I've missed you," she said in a very sultry voice.  
  
"I've missed you too," he said a bit stiffly. It was embarrassing to be soppy in front of the boys. She looked a little disappointed at the coldness of her welcome, so he quickly added, "And I believe Harry and Ron have missed you too."  
  
She followed him through, and sat next to him on the sofa. Sod it! he thought, and held her hand. He was rewarded with a warm smile, and a quick squeeze of his fingers.  
  
"So what have you two been up to?" she asked, in a very pointed way.  
  
"We were just thinking of something to do to Malfoy," Severus said. He didn't particularly feel like standing in the way of Hermione's wrath being vented on the boys, but tactics dictated it. They should be grateful.  
  
Hermione gave him a hard look, then asked, "And what had you decided?"  
  
There was an awkward silence as the males in the room tried to think of a punishment for Malfoy on the spur of the moment. Ron broke the silence by asking, "What had you thought of Hermione? After all, it was you he insulted, so I'm sure you have a couple of ideas of your own."  
  
There was no doubt that the boy was more intelligent than he was given credit for, thought Severus. That level of slithering out from trouble was worthy of a Slytherin. Of course Hermione hadn't been deceived for one moment, but it gave them a breathing space to think of something nasty to do to Malfoy. In truth, he had been too tired to turn his mind to anything other than the urgent necessity for bed.  
  
She let the matter drop, although the boys would have to be stupid to think that was the end of it. Severus predicted a very robust exchange of views on the matter later, in his absence.  
  
"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "What is the worse thing that could happen to Malfoy?"  
  
Severus thought about that for a moment, and then the answer hit him. "Of course. I have just the thing. But you will all need to play a part." 


	9. in which plotting takes place and the bo...

Bubble Bath 9  
  
The boys were eager to help pay back Malfoy for seven years of aggravation and were looking at Severus with open-mouthed anticipation. It wasn't a pretty sight.  
  
"The worst thing that could happen to young Mr Malfoy," he said, "would be to force him to tell the truth for an entire day."  
  
For a second he thought that the idea was too subtle for the boys to appreciate, but judging from the evil grin that crossed Weasley's – Ron's, he must remember that – face, the penny had dropped without the need for prolonged and tedious explanations. Ron took a long moment to revel in the prospect before, seeing the blank look that so frequently covered Harry's face, he explained. "Think about it, Harry. He'll be forced to tell the truth to everyone. Can you imagine how long he'll last when Pansy he tells Pansy or anyone else what he really thinks about them?"  
  
Severus was mildly concerned to see the considering look that Hermione was giving him. What had he done wrong now? He had come up with a plan; Malfoy would be punished. Surely she should be happy.  
  
He was distracted when Harry said, "But won't that mean Malfoy will tell anyone who asks him about Hermione and ...." he swallowed hard before saying it ".... Sev ..... Professor Snape."  
  
"I'll take care of that with a binding charm," Severus said. "I'd have to do it anyway, because I don't trust the little sod to keep quiet."  
  
The boys accepted that, and Harry seemed pleased to hear Draco described as a little sod where previously he had thought that Professor Snape actually liked him. It didn't mean that he liked Snape any more than he did before, and it certainly didn't mean that Snape liked Harry any more than he did before, but it did mean that Harry wasn't alone in being disliked by Snape, and that Draco wasn't the admired golden boy he had always thought. Odd enough, it made him feel better.  
  
"How will we get that potion into him," Ron mused. "We can't just slip it into his drink, Dumbledore might find out and I don't fancy getting expelled so close to the end of my time at Hogwarts."  
  
There was silence for several minutes, whilst the conspirators thought.  
  
Hermione broke the silence. "Neville."  
  
Ron looked at her and grinned. "Neville," he agreed.  
  
Severus was glad when Harry asked the question he was dying to, but couldn't, without looking like an idiot. "What do you mean, Neville?"  
  
Hermione threw him an irritated glance then explained. "It's quite simple Harry. No one would be surprised if Neville had a freak accident in Potions that turned the contents of his cauldron into a truth potion. Not Veritaserum, because that could override the binding charm, something weaker. Severus can then make Draco test the potion and no one will suspect that he is being other than his usual bastard self. Result: one potion administered to the ferret."  
  
She was aware that the boys were looking at her in a slightly stunned way. "What?"  
  
"You just called Professor Snape a bastard," said Harry, breathless with admiration.  
  
She smiled at Severus, and moved a little closer to him on the sofa. "I can call the man I love a bit of a bastard if I want, no one else gets to though."  
  
Severus, whose hackles had been up, found that this declaration disarmed him completely. He found this forbearance didn't worry him as much as it should, even when Ron said cheerfully, "Don't worry Professor, we won't tell anyone differently."  
  
"Not if you want to pass your Potions Newt you won't." But Ron could tell his heart wasn't in it, and merely grinned at him impertinently.  
  
Some signal passed between Ron and Hermione, because he looked startled, then amused, before saying to Harry, "Come on, let's go and find Neville and talk to him about this. I think he'll need a lot of persuading and we'd better start early if we want to do it this week."  
  
Harry followed Ron to the door, and then turned back in surprise when he realised that Hermione wasn't following them. He opened his mouth to speak, but fortunately realisation dawned before he managed to make himself look too stupid. He blushed bright red, stammered out a goodbye and left.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes at Professor Snape, who tried very hard not to smile, and then shut the door.  
  
"Alone at last," sighed Hermione, leaning into him.  
  
Severus looked at her a little nervously. It was probably a little early in the relationship to be able to say things like: I'm a forty year old man and not a sex machine, despite all evidence to the contrary over the last few days, and GODS I need to sleep, but please stay anyway.  
  
"Severus," she said, drawing his name out. "Did you mean what you just said?"  
  
Damn it, he thought, give me a clue. Did I mean what?  
  
Seeing his look of confusions, she explained, "About the worse thing that could happen to Malfoy was being forced to tell the truth."  
  
Ah.  
  
Ooops.  
  
He had, in a roundabout, sort of way, indicated that Slytherins were strangers to the truth, and he suspected that Hermione had strong views on the need for honesty in a relationship. So did he. Honesty was not the best policy, and that most relationships needed a certain amount of lying to survive. It was a lubricant that avoided friction, and allowed the couple to rub along together in relative harmony.  
  
"Yes," he said cautiously. He didn't really want to have this discussion now; he was tired. Here it came.  
  
"Because, of course, a relationship needs a certain amount of honesty to survive."  
  
He opened his mouth to disagree, when the presence of the qualifying word 'honesty' registered. Aware that his mouth was open, and that Hermione was watching him with amusement, he snapped it shut.  
  
"Only a certain amount," he ventured.  
  
"I think so don't you. I mean, if I ask you if my hair looks a mess the proper response is 'not at all, dear' even if it looks like a nest site for a flock of crows. But if I ask you if something's wrong, you should tell me if there is."  
  
He nodded. He had underestimated her common sense. He took a deep breath and said, "Hermione, I want you to stay here with me, but can we please get some sleep because I'm knackered."  
  
"Thank god you said that," she said, "I'm knackered myself. You've worn me out."  
  
He felt a faint tinge of pride. He'd sorted out the boys, arranged a necessary lesson in not-messing-with-the-Potions-Master for Draco, worn out a much younger lover, successfully side-stepped the issue of honesty, (note to self: never insult the hair), and was about to get some well-earned sleep, and then wake up rejuvenated to an armful of Hermione.  
  
On the whole, he really was rather good. 


	10. In which the boy secure Neville's cooper...

Bubble Bath 10  
  
Whilst Severus was enjoying a virtuous repose, about to awake to an entirely less-virtuous evening, the boys were putting the first steps of the plan into practice.  
  
Mission: Locate Neville.  
  
Not that that was difficult, Even Harry, the-boy-who-breathed-through-his- mouth, correctly suggested that Neville was likely to be found in the Gryffindor common room, and sure enough that was where he was.  
  
Mission: Separate Neville from the herd for a discussion in private.  
  
Ron had the feeling that neither Hermione nor Snape would like to have their private affairs spread all over Hogwarts. Professor MacGonagall, whilst viewing Hermione as a favourite, would still come down on her like a ton of bricks, if she ever found out that she and Severus had been shagging like nifflers. Ron found the idea that Snape could be thought of as taking advantage of Hermione frankly ridiculous; if anyone was taking advantage it was her, and on a regular basis judging by the exhaustion lines on Snape's face.  
  
Having suffered beneath the onslaught of Hermione in full flow, he felt that the poor sod should be given a medal, and, if they ever broke up, a warning should be put in the Daily Prophet so that no other poor sod would end up in deep waters without knowing what he had let himself in for.  
  
No, Hermione was more than capable of taking care of herself. She was a force of nature, like an avalanche, and all you could do was roll yourself up into a tight little ball and let it wash over you and hope that when it was all over you would still have the use of your limbs.  
  
Neville was surprisingly difficult to lure out of the common room, and in the end Ron had hissed at him in exasperation, "For god's sake, Neville, can't you take a hint. We need to have a word with you in private."  
  
Apparently he could take a hint, when it was dropped on him from a great height, because he packed away his things, yawned elaborately and said he was going to see Trevor 'for a little chat'.  
  
Harry and Ron waited a suitable interval, and then followed. Not that there was any reason, other than the prying eyes of Ginny Weasley, to pretend that they weren't going to have a little chat with Neville; it's just that Ron felt that if a job was worth doing it was worth doing properly. If secrecy was the name of the game, then secrecy would be maintained at all times.  
  
In many ways, Ron missed the war. It might have been violent, frightening and may occasionally have prevented him from having fun, but it has also been thrilling and interesting. Somehow, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes didn't have the same excitement value as a ducking a well-aimed hex from a Deatheater.  
  
Mission: Persuade Neville to pull a prank in Potions. Without letting on that Snape was in on it.  
  
This was easier than either Ron or Harry had expected, once Professor Snape's name had been mentioned anyway. It was almost as if Neville wanted to get into trouble with him. Instead of the 'oh, I'll get into trouble and have a detention, no, no, no, I can't do it' they expected they got, 'oh, I'll get into trouble and have a detention, yes, yes, yes, I'll do it."  
  
"Neville," said Harry, in his best, we're all Gryffindors together voice, "Ron and I were wondering if you were up for a bit of fun."  
  
Ron had anticipated and blocked Neville's move for the door, although he had the grace to look apologetic. "Sorry, mate," he said. "We need a favour."  
  
"Honestly, Neville, it'll be fun," wheedled Harry.  
  
Neville sagged a little, but Ron still kept a close eye on him to prevent him bolting.  
  
"What do you want me to do?" he asked.  
  
"We want to get our own back on Malfoy," said Harry. Neville didn't look impressed.  
  
"So," continued Ron, "what we have in mind is slipping a little something into your cauldron in Potions, and then slipping the contents to Malfoy when he's not looking."  
  
"I'll get detention," said Neville, with an odd tone in his voice.  
  
"Nah," said Ron airily. "Snape'll never notice."  
  
"I'll get detention," Neville said again, sounding even more peculiar than before. There was a pause whilst he considered the suggestion. "I'll do it," he said, sounding very decisive. "Just let me know what you want me to add, and I'll do it."  
  
Ron looked at Neville with a terrible suspicion running through his mind. Neville liked Professor Snape. Liked him in the Hermione sense of the word. All the time Neville had been shaking in Potions, it had been with suppressed excitement and not terror at all. He wouldn't put it past him to have made deliberate mistakes so that Professor Snape would shout at him, even hoping for a detention.  
  
Dear god the boy needed help.  
  
Even Harry thought it was suspicious, and after Neville had headed off back to the common room, he looked at Ron with dawning horror and said, "You don't think he fancies Professor Snape, do you?"  
  
"I'm afraid so." Ron shook his head at the awfulness of it. "We'd better keep quiet about it as well; there's no saying what Hermione would do if she found out. Could be very nasty."  
  
Harry nodded in agreement, then looked up at Ron with a peculiar expression. "Ro-on," said Harry. "You don't fancy Professor Snape, do you?"  
  
Ron didn't like the way Harry was looking at him, almost as if he had grown another head. Of course he didn't fancy Professor Snape; he liked girls. "Bugger off Harry. What on earth makes you think that?"  
  
"The rest of Hogwarts seems to."  
  
"Fuck me," said Ron. "The world's gone mad. At this rate, we'll all have to stop washing our hair and wear false noses if we ever want to shag again."  
  
They looked at each other before collapsing into fits of giggles, and if there was a touch of hysteria to their laughter no one would blame them. It's one thing to face Voldemort, it was quite another thing to face up to the fact that two of your friends fancied the Greasy Git.  
  
The world had indeed gone mad. 


	11. waking

Severus was mildly disorientated when he woke. He thought he could get used to the prospect of waking with an armful of warm Hermione, and he'd certainly like the chance to try. He took a few minutes to simply luxuriate in the heady sensation of sharing a bed with a willing, if not a rampantly enthusiastic, woman.  
  
Which created something of a tricky situation – how were they going to 'come out' about their relationship to a wider world than Draco, Harry and Ron? He didn't think that it would be wise to broadcast the fact that they had formed an attachment whilst she was still at Hogwarts, but he wondered how well Hermione would take this. She was after all a Gryffindor and therefore prejudiced against telling lies, no matter how convenient.  
  
He didn't think that the news of their relationship would be greeted with universal jubilation and cries of joy; more like puzzled expressions, if not outright hostility.  
  
In fact, he and Hermione had still to discuss the future, and what it held for them, at all. Where was she going to live? Where was she going to work? What was she going to do? Where did he fit into all of it?  
  
And yet, whilst he had occasional doubts about his ability to make her happy, and periodically wondered what on earth she saw in him, and more often wondered whether he would be able to keep up with her and her apparently inexhaustible reserves of energy – he'd been so pleased when she'd confessed to being tired - he had no doubts that Hermione was serious about their future together. She wasn't the sort of girl to enter into anything lightly, much less seducing her teacher.  
  
He could always soothe his admittedly already elastic conscience with the thought that she had seduced him and not the other way around, and he'd been tempted, oh, how he'd been tempted. She'd definitely made the first move. If anyone was being taken advantage of here, it was him. Poor, innocent, unworldly Severus had fallen to the wiles of a teenage siren. He snorted at that, a little more loudly than he had intended.  
  
He lay back for a moment, grinning widely at the thought of how often she'd taken advantage of him.  
  
There was a faint stirring beside him, and Hermione blinked up at him sleepily. "You look happy; what are you plotting?"  
  
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Ravishing you within an inch of your life," he suggested.  
  
"That sounds fun."  
  
He pulled her closer, and sighed. "Actually I was thinking; how are we going to come clean about us?"  
  
A little huff of laughter played across his shoulder. "That's obvious," she said. "We bump into each other at some point during the holidays, and I ask you for a coffee. We go and have a spot of lunch somewhere highly visible and let the gossips do the rest."  
  
He hadn't thought of that; it was simple, it was elegant, and it would avoid all necessity for awkward explanations. It would also allow her a sop to her Gryffindor conscience; they weren't actually lying about anything, merely allowing others to draw their own – entirely wrong – conclusions.  
  
Not that he would have provided an explanation anyway, merely glowered at people until they went away. It had worked for him in the past, and it would doubtless continue to work in the future, with others although not, he thought, with Hermione. She would merely ask him if he was feeling alright, offer him a pepper up potion, and then ignore his bad temper until he had worked himself out of what he would admit, only to himself, could be called a fit of the sulks. Or possibly apply more dramatic methods; it's hard to sulk when someone was snogging you senseless.  
  
"What are you going to tell your parents?" he asked, curious to see whether this new need-to-know approach would spill over into her relationship with her parents.  
  
Apparently it did.  
  
"I think we'll stick to the expurgated version," she said with a broad smile.  
  
"That's probably wise." More than wise, he though, bloody essential if he were to survive any potential meeting with his future-in-laws with his genitalia intact. Her parents may be Muggles, but even Muggles could do damage with a blunted carving knife and enough determination.  
  
That was every boyfriend's nightmare, he supposed: meeting the parents; and he wasn't even comfortable with the idea of being someone's boyfriend. It made him sound like some spotty teenager, and he had been entirely grateful to leave that part of his life behind. He had no wish to be reminded of it now, not when his life was finally bursting into vibrant bloom. Mind you, he didn't think that being introduced to her parents as her lover – which is how he thought of himself – was likely to smoothe matters over.  
  
Not at all.  
  
He doubted if he would welcome his daughter's boyfriend into his home with open arms. He was bloody certain he wouldn't welcome his daughter's boyfriend into his home with open arms if he was twenty years her senior and her teacher to boot.  
  
That was a thought to go on the back burner for now, daughters, for a very long time in fact, because Hermione was giving him that look and saying, "Didn't you have some sort of plan for the rest of this evening?"  
  
"Let me think, what could it be?" he said, nibbling gently on her ear lobe. "Marking? Reviewing my lesson plans?"  
  
And then Hermione was pulling his head down into a kiss, and he suddenly lost interest in teasing her, and the rest seemed to have done him some good because he was feeling all frisky again.  
  
Much to Hermione's evident appreciation.  
  
Several times. 


	12. 12

Hermione was looking forward to Potions with a great deal of excitement. Everything was set for the prank of a lifetime. Severus had indicated, by a short nod to her mute query when she entered the room, that the necessary charm had been cast on Draco. Neville had apparently been easier to persuade to take part in the joke than she had expected. When she had queried it with the boys, they had both looked uneasy and asked her to leave it alone. She had a horrible feeling she knew why, but she had no intention of crystallising that into a certainty.  
  
She looked sideways at Neville and shuddered. There were some things friends should keep to themself. She smiled; that was probably exactly how the boys felt about her and Severus.  
  
Severus was swooping around the classroom in his usual fashion. It had been nearly three days, four hours, and eighteen minutes since they had last had a chance for some extra-curricular activities, and she had decided to extract maximum enjoyment from the class by pining. It was a shame she couldn't be more overt about the whole business of pining, as she suspected that Severus would enjoy the thought of her mooning over him, just not when it would cost him his job.  
  
From the faint smile that passed over his lips, it appeared that Severus had been using Legilimency on her again. She ought to object more, but the advantages of having a lover who knew exactly what you wanted and how you wanted it, outweighed the disadvantages. Even if the perverse git made you wait for it sometimes; actually, especially when the perverse git made you wait for it.  
  
Severus was looking entirely too smug for her comfort, so she dwelled in loving detail on their last encounter when she had finally had the courage to try her hand at some teasing of her own. He really did beg quite nicely.  
  
"Miss Granger," came a voice across the classroom, "Pay attention to what you're doing, or do I have to give you detention."  
  
She muttered, "No, sir", dutifully, and put her head down. She could imagine what he was thinking about, all 'you've been a naughty girl and you need to be punished' – he was keen on discipline – but if anyone was the naughty one, it was him. She carefully built an image of Severus, naked, bent across her knee, being spanked.  
  
There was a startled squeak from his direction, which he quickly turned into a complaint about the quality of Harry's potion, and then he retreated behind his desk. He looked at Hermine with dark amusement, before turning his attention back to the rest of the class. Oh ho, so he liked that idea did he? She carefully filed that away for future reference, and then turned her attention to Neville and his potion.  
  
He was, for once, doing a splendid job; it was entirely the wrong colour for the potion he was supposed to be making but entirely the right colour for the one he was making.  
  
This was going to be fun.  
  
It was fun. Of course, the most amusing aspect of the whole business is that Draco knew there was something up from the moment he was selected to try Neville's potion. His suspicions were only confirmed by the predatory grins bestowed on him by Hermione, Harry and Ron as he walked to his doom. A quick glance at Snape showed that there was no hope of reprieve there, and with a sinking feeling he realised that there was no way that Snape would have allowed this to happen without ensuring his silence first. His biggest bargaining chip – the threat to expose them – had gone.  
  
Bugger.  
  
He was high and dry and had no choice but to drink the potion and hope that nothing too drastic would happen as a result. After all, he had got them laid!  
  
He swallowed hard, eyed the potion with a jaundiced eye, then knocked it back in one swallow. He braced himself for a reaction and – nothing! He couldn't resist a smirk. Of course, Neville couldn't brew a cup of tea properly; he must have made some mistake, and Draco was going to get away with it after all.  
  
"So, Mr Malfoy, how do you feel?" asked the Professor.  
  
"Smug," came the reply. His eyes widened in horror. He tried to say that he felt sick, and he needed to go to see Madam Pomfrey but the words wouldn't come. Dear god, no, not a truth potion – not only was he forced to tell the truth to a direct question, it seemed that he couldn't tell a lie either.  
  
He was fucked – he couldn't even find the words to describe how fucked he was. He was dimly aware that Professor Snape had sneered at Neville for producing a defective potion, and then he was directed to return to his seat.  
  
"Are you alright, Draco?" hissed Pansy.  
  
"Of course I'm not alright," he snapped.  
  
"There's no need the snap. Honestly, anyone would think you didn't like me, the way you go on."  
  
There was a brief moment of thinking 'oh bugger', and then the floodgates opened. "Of course I don't like you, you pug faced disaster of a woman."  
  
Pansy looked at him with an expression split equally between fury and shock, as the rest of the Slytherins looked on in amazement.  
  
"What do you mean you don't like me?"  
  
Draco may have been backed into a corner, and Draco may be forced to tell the truth, but Draco was also a Malfoy. If he was going to have to tell the truth, he was going to do it in style. Seven years of dislike came boiling to the surface; if nothing else at least he would never have to speak to Pansy Parkinson once this entire fiasco was over. So it wasn't entirely a bad thing after all. "I would have thought that was obvious to the meanest intelligence, even a Gryffindor would have grasped by now that I do – not – like – you – Pansy."  
  
"But – but – but-"  
  
"But nothing," he sneered, "I'd rather sleep with Neville than have anything to do with you. You two-face, backstabbing little creep." The potion had made him admit rather more than he intended there, but at least no one else knew that it was a truth potion. They just thought that after seven years of Pansy's solicitousness Draco had finally snapped.  
  
Draco didn't like the interested look that Neville was sending him. Unfortunately, the truth serum stopped him from lying even to himself, so he had to admit he DID like the interested look that Neville was sending him.  
  
Dear god, could it get any worse?  
  
It could, and it did. First, when Zabini objected to the way that he had spoken to Pansy, and he had treated the lad to a detailed description of her morals and present conquests that seemed to bode ill for the future of Zabini's relationship with her. It appeared she had over-estimated his willingness to share.  
  
Then, when taxed with the suggestion that he was a hypocrite of the worst type, and who did he think he was criticising Pansy when he had slept with most of Slytherin, and he heard himself admitting that he hadn't actually shagged most of the girls at all, and only a few of the boys.  
  
The destruction of his carefully established reputation for being a Slytherin Sex god was more than he could take. Whenever someone came near, he would start snarling abuse at them; if he could stop them asking a question, he might be able to survive the rest of the lesson with his sanity intact.  
  
The rest of the potions class passed in silence. No one wanted to speak to Draco when he was in that kind of mood, and so he managed to make it to the door – ahead of everyone else – when class was finished without any more accidents. Now all he had to do was lie low until the potion wore off. 


	13. Draco and Neville

Bubble Bath  
  
Gryffindor Tower was buzzing with the excitement of Potions. Pansy had a knack of annoying people: whether by her stupid remarks, her patronising attitude, or her tendency to kick someone when they were down.  
  
Draco would have been amused to find that he had gone up in the Gryffindors estimation; amused, but also worried, because that was all he needed to destroy his carefully nurtured reputation - people liking him – fortunately for his peace of mind, they would return to disliking him in a few hours, once the excitement had worn off.  
  
Neville sat in a corner, by the fire, gazing into the middle distance. Hermione watched him for a while, and then nudged Harry. "Fetch the Marauder's map."  
  
Harry followed her gaze, and then sighed. "What is it with Slytherin men," he sighed, before doing as he was told.  
  
That was as far as his support took him though, and when he returned he handed the map over to Hermione so that she could do, as he put it, the tricky bit. After all, he reasoned, it wasn't anything one bloke would be happy chatting about to another bloke unless that other bloke happened to be of the same persuasion. Otherwise, it was something much better left to girls.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, but secretly thought Harry might have a point, even if it was in the limited sense that Neville would undoubtedly prefer to discuss it with her than Harry. If only because Harry would umm and ahh to such an extent that he could be talking about anything.  
  
And after all, the truth serum only had another hour or so to run, so if Neville wanted to have a word with Draco at a time when he couldn't lie, then he needed to be pointed in the right direction as quickly as possible.  
  
Hermione sat next to Neville, and said softly, "I can tell you where he is, if you want to know." She tapped the map, assured it she was up to no good, and then pushed it into his unresisting hands.  
  
He didn't pretend that he didn't understand what she was talking about, but he didn't seem that keen to take her up on the suggestion either. "Do you think he might really be interested in me?"  
  
"I don't know Neville but if I were you I'd go and find out."  
  
Neville looked over at Harry and Ron who were ostentatiously ignoring the whole conversation. "Don't worry about them," she said. "They've had worse shocks recently. Honestly, Draco will be tame in comparison."  
  
Neville looked at her in awe. "You're shagging Snape. No wonder you weren't worried about the points or detention," he hissed. "You lucky, lucky bitch."  
  
Hermione neither denied nor confirmed his assumption, but her rosy blush was all that was needed to convince Neville he was right. He was disappointed, obviously, to find that his primary crush was no longer available – he didn't think that he wanted to cross wands with Hermione over a man – and was indeed disappointingly heterosexual.  
  
Who would have thought it? He'd hoped that Snape would be a bit pervy in a let-me-give-you-detention sort of a way, but to find out he liked girls!! Ew. It could put him off Potions for good, although if he wasn't trying so hard to get detention from the silky-voiced Slytherin Sex God his marks might actually improve. It was hard to imagine that his hands would be shaking with suppressed excitement in the future, not when he knew that he and Hermione were an item. Ew. Ew. Ew. In fact, ew again.  
  
However, there was the plus side: that today's events had shown that his secondary crush was both available and slightly interested, and if Hermione could pull of a coup of such magnitude, who was to say that he couldn't do the same. He looked down at the map in silence for a long moment, and then, without saying anything, headed out of the common room.  
  
Neville was a man with a mission: Find Draco, snog Draco. They could argue about the fiddly bits of whether he wanted a relationship or not once the snogging – and more? – had been completed. He wasn't about to blow the chance of a lifetime with pettifogging questions as to Draco's intentions. They were probably dishonourable, in fact the more dishonourable the better.  
  
It didn't take him long to find Draco, who had secreted himself in a disused room in the Astronomy Tower. Draco didn't look pleased to see him, and for two pins he would have turned round and left. However, this was likely to be his only chance to find out whether Draco was interested or not, and although being a Gryffindor should mean that he was too noble to take advantage of him, common sense indicated that it was a bloody good idea.  
  
So he cautiously approached the blond – after all, being forced to tell the truth didn't mean that Draco had to like telling the truth, and he did still have a wand – and decided to try his luck. He went for the direct I'm- a-Gryffindor-and-I've-never-heard-of-subtlety-much-less-able-to-spell-it approach.  
  
"So, did you mean what you said in Potions?" Realising that even this managed to leave a certain amount of leeway to an experienced prevaricator and equivocator like Draco, he followed that up with, "Do you want to sleep with me?"  
  
His heart sank when Draco replied, "No." It rose again when the truth serum forced Draco to complete the half-truth. "I don't want to sleep with you at all; I want to shag you. There wouldn't be any sleeping involved."  
  
Neville smiled at that exciting prospect. "You know," he said, "bearing in mind I'm at least partially responsible for your present condition, it seems to me that I really ought to do something to help you out. Now if we were to spend the next hour like this" – he bent and kissed Draco – "then you really couldn't get any trouble with telling the truth, would you?"  
  
Even the effects of the truth serum, Draco would recognise that as a rhetorical question and simply pulled Neville down into another kiss. 


	14. confession is good for the soul

Once Hermione had packed Neville off to see Draco, she decided to go and find the love of her own life. She had an ulterior motive, and not just the usual one. It seemed to her that Neville needed a reward over and above the opportunity to snog Draco at his most vulnerable.  
  
What she had in mind was deeply unethical and involved polyjuice potion and a donation of hair from Severus. After all, Draco could turn Neville down in which case he would need cheering up, and if he didn't turn him down it occurred to her that Draco was precisely the perverse sort of person who would find the idea of taking polyuice and impersonating Professor Snape for a shag entertaining.  
  
Maybe two doses of polyjuice – they may want to take turns; Neville was very definitely a dark horse.  
  
All this had to be achieved without Severus's knowledge, because she didn't think that his reaction to the news that Neville fancied him was going to be anything other than locking himself in his rooms and refusing to come out until term was over.  
  
She wouldn't have minded if she would have been allowed to lock herself in there with him; but she suspected that the news would most likely render him incapable of performing for days and, whilst she was prepared to do a good deed for Neville, she wasn't prepared to take the risk that it would lead to a curtailment of her nocturnal (as well as morningal, afternoonal, and eveningal) activities.  
  
Stealing from Severus's stores simply didn't have the same thrill now that she had a perfectly valid excuse to be there. All it would take, if she was caught, was the simple suggestion that she was looking for him perhaps coupled with a revelation about a fantasy about the storeroom and he would almost certainly be distracted. He wasn't there, so it was a simple case of giving the password, purloining the polyjuice and slipping it into her bag. Mission accomplished in less than ten minutes.  
  
All she had to do then was head into his bedroom to swipe some hair, and it wasn't as if she would be unwelcome there either if he did find her, and at least she wouldn't have to fall back on some daft idea about a fantasy involving the storeroom. After all there were things in jars in there that had eyes, and she wasn't entirely certain that they were dead. She may have moved from relying on Madam Melchior's Marvellous Modulating Wand to exhausting but extremely satisfying sex – and she hoped Severus would calm down a bit soon, because she needed to sleep some time, but she hadn't got the heart to say no when he was a man on a mission – but she wasn't prepared to move into the rather advanced concept of shagging as performance art.  
  
She triggered the wards and slipped inside. His hairbrush was sitting on the dressing table, and sure enough there were some long, dark hairs on it. She wrapped them carefully in a twist of paper, and looked round the room. She had some fond memories of this place, and soon she would be leaving, probably for good.  
  
Oh well, while she was here........ She went back into the lounge, picked a book off the shelves and sat on the sofa. It might be nice to have a chat with Severus, and for once that wasn't a euphemism, she really did want to talk.  
  
He was pleased to see her, which made her feel mildly guilty. He deposited himself next to her on the sofa with a decided flumph, and put an arm round her.  
  
"I've missed this you know."  
  
She just made a humming sound and then insinuated herself more firmly into his embrace.  
  
He took a deep breath, gathered all his courage together, reminded himself that she had said that honesty was important and said, rather plaintively, "We never seem to talk any more."  
  
He felt a little hurt when she just chuckled, and then immensely relieved that this honesty business seemed to pay off. "I was thinking the same thing."  
  
"I thought...." he began tentatively, not sure how to bring up the Ron incident tactfully.  
  
She sighed. "You thought because of Ron that I was a raving nymphomaniac?"  
  
"I wouldn't have put it quite like that, but something along those lines."  
  
"Ron needed the practice," she said.  
  
He digested that, worked out the implications, and felt flattered about the compliment buried in that short comment. "Oh. That's a relief; I'm an old man, and I need my sleep."  
  
She shifted a little until she was looking at him and said, very earnestly, "You are not an old man, and you're not the only one that needs some sleep."  
  
This was all working out very well, and so he decided to go for broke on the honest front. "Hermione, what did you steal from my storecupboard?"  
  
There was a fraught silence, and then she said, "If I told you, I'd have to Obliviate you. In fact, if I told you, you'd beg me to Obliviate you."  
  
"Ah." A pause. "So would I be right in thinking that it's polyjuice potion, and some of my hair, all wrapped up in a little parcel for Mr Longbottom."  
  
An even longer pause. "You mean you knew."  
  
"I didn't know, not until you just told me."  
  
"Not about the polyjuice; I mean about Neville," she said, a trifle impatiently.  
  
"Oh, that. It's been obvious since his sixth year. Haven't you ever wondered why I've never given him detention despite all the cauldrons he's melted?"  
  
Now she thought about it, it seemed obvious. There had been a lot of sneering, some shouting, deduction of points into triple figures but never a detention.  
  
"Blimey," she said.  
  
"So next time you want to set up a tryst involving my polyjuice double, perhaps you'll just ask me for my hair?" he said in an airy manner.  
  
"I can't think that's going to happen more than once in my lifetime," she said "I don't like sharing my toys."  
  
"If I said the same thing about you, you'd be up in arms," he said, sounding amused.  
  
"I know, but no one ever said life was fair."  
  
He couldn't argue with that; it was the entire basis of his teaching technique after all. So, wisely, he didn't try, and just pulled her more firmly against him and dropped a kiss on her hair. 


	15. the end

Severus looked over the graduating seventh years and their parents with a sense of pride and relief. The pride was largely directed at Hermione's grades, which were impressive; the relief was at not getting caught having an affair with a student. Not to mention administering highly illegal substances to a student during class, and conniving at the illicit liaison of other students under the influence of other illegal substances.  
  
He didn't think he'd broken half as many rules when he'd been a deatheater. Or had as much fun.  
  
In a couple of week's time they would be meeting up in Diagon Alley, and it would all be out in the open. He was immensely looking forward to Minerva's reaction to the news that he was knocking off one of her favourite students.  
  
He nearly jumped out of his skin when the esteemed Headmistress appeared beside him and said, "It's good to see them all bright and happy, preparing to go out into the world."  
  
He simply nodded. Now was not the time to share his usual opinion of good riddance, and at least now he would be able to get some peace and quiet. He cast a jaundiced eye over Draco and Neville who were saying their goodbyes, silently, and at great length in the middle of the hall in the centre of a large crowd who appeared to be placing bets on how long they could snog without drawing breath.  
  
Why they felt the need to flaunt their farewells in this was when Neville had been invited to Malfoy Manor – by Narcissa no less – for the holidays, was a mystery. Unless Draco had had the sense to place a side bet with someone.  
  
He wouldn't be able to see Hermione for at least a week, and he wasn't behaving in such a grossly sentimental way. It was more than his job was worth it was true, but even if he had been free to behave like that, he took the view that he would have been more discreet. Largely because discretion would allow the goodbyes to be much more affectionate.  
  
"I'm surprised you aren't deducting points for that Severus," teased Minerva. "You could get a head start on next year."  
  
"I'm surprised at you, Minerva; surely you should be making some comment about Slytherins corrupting your tender little Gryffindors. Although, bearing in mind the public nature of the display, it seems to me that your Gryffindors are corrupting my delicate little Slytherins."  
  
She merely smirked at him. "Do you think it will last?" she asked.  
  
"I think so. Zabini made some disparaging remark about Neville last night in the common room...," he said no more. There was no need to. Zabini was presently ensconced in the infirmary having his nose re-attached.  
  
"Shocking, Severus, allowing the students to duel in the common room."  
  
He shrugged. He'd been doing better things at the time, and couldn't be bothered getting out of bed to sort it out. Draco had better sense than to do something drastic, and now Zabini would have better sense than to annoy a Malfoy. His lack of intervention was in the way of a life lesson, rather than failing to live up to his responsibilities. Even Hermione had come round to his point of view when she realised that intervention would have meant stopping what they were doing. Strict discipline had its place, and that place was in the bedroom; the children could go hang as far as he was concerned.  
  
"Who'd have thought it," continued Minerva, "a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, and yet they seem so happy together. Perhaps they'll set a trend."  
  
Severus was pleased that all his years of training as a spy meant that he didn't flinch. Minerva was hinting at something, and he had a feeling he knew what it was. He hoped that she wasn't intending to follow in Albus's footsteps and become omniscient. It was very annoying.  
  
"Perhaps," he said noncommittally.  
  
"Because if you hurt that poor girl's feelings, there will be more trouble than you know what to do with."  
  
"I don't know what you mean Minerva." Which was nothing more than the truth. Did Minerva know about their affair or was she hinting at something else.  
  
"I've seen you two, casting longing looks at each other. Now, I want you to promise that you're going to do something about it. I don't want you to throw away a chance at happiness out of some silly idea that you shouldn't have a relationship with a student."  
  
He choked a little at that. She was looking at him expectantly, so he had to reply. "I can assure you Minerva that I have no intention of letting something like that stand in our way. I rather suspect we might bump into each other very casually in Diagon Alley next week."  
  
Minerva gave him a very odd look, and then her eyes flicked to Hermione. "You already have done something about it, haven't you?" Severus opened his mouth to answer, but Minerva put up a hand to stop him. "No, don't tell me. If I knew for sure I'd have to do something about it."  
  
Severus just smiled at her, one of his best I-know-something-you-don't smiles, usually reserved for Order meetings when he wanted to get under the skin of Lupin. It had worked very well for him at Deatheater meetings as well. For a hard, ruthless predator Lucius was amazingly gullible; paranoia made him very easy to manipulate.  
  
"Oh, go on with you," she said. "Go and find your girlfriend and say your goodbyes – and not in public like those two."  
  
"That sounds like a very good idea," he said blandly, and headed off to do just that.  
  
Hermione was busy chatting to Professor Flitwick about a reference, but excused herself to head off to the quiet corner indicated by Severus with a peremptory jerk of his head. Behind him Minerva pursed her lips thoughtfully, and then headed in the direction of Hermione's parents. It would never do if they caught their daughter snogging a Professor, so someone needed to make sure they stayed where they were, and someone needed to put in a good word for Severus Snape.  
  
Just call her Minerva 'Matchmaker' McGonagall.  
  
It was fortunate that the two matches, comfortably placed behind a screening pillar, were unaware of Minerva's efforts on their behalf. It would have done nothing for their peace of mind. As it was they were able to say their farewells – and in the same way as Draco and Neville, despite Severus's previous sneering – relatively undisturbed.  
  
It was several minutes before Severus thought to mention his conversation with Minerva, and several minutes more before what he was saying penetrated Hermione's foggy mind. When it did, she just shrugged. "I presume she took the news well; you're unhexed and you're not being escorted off the premises by Hagrid."  
  
Severus winced; he didn't want to think about how close to disaster they had come.  
  
He took her hand, planted a kiss on the palm, and said, "We'd better head back." She smiled warmly; who would ever have expected Severus Snape to be a closet romantic? They emerged from behind their pillar, and moved to a socially acceptable distance; as most people considered that fifteen feet was the minimum socially acceptable distance between them and Severus Snape, and preferably more, Hermione was still standing far too close to him.  
  
What she saw made her clutch at his arm in shock.  
  
Minerva was talking to her parents.  
  
"It's all right," he hissed, "they're still smiling."  
  
"Good point."  
  
"I expect she's trying to be helpful."  
  
Hermione looked at Professor McGonagall in amazement. "How?"  
  
"You know, telling them how wonderful I am; what a brave, heroic figure I cut in the war; that sort of thing."  
  
"I bloody hope not; they don't know there was one," said Hermione.  
  
"What... how... did you just forget to mention it?" Severus said in amazement. "Or did it just not come up in conversation? Your parents asked you how your term went, and you said fine, and forgot to mention that you'd been petrified by a basilisk."  
  
"Basically, yes," snapped Hermione. "Do you really think that they'd have let me stay here if they had any idea of the danger I was in?"  
  
"So you lied to them." There was a brief pause whilst Severus assimilated this. "Well done. I think that makes you an honorary Slytherin, and that makes me feel a lot better about the fact that I'm in a relationship with a Gryffindor. At least you're a sneaky Gryffindor."  
  
Hermione smirked. "I can always wear green underwear, if it makes you feel better about it."  
  
"On the whole, I think not. I much prefer you without underwear at all," Severus replied loftily as they threaded their way through the crowd to head Minerva off before she could put her foot in it entirely.  
  
"Cheapskate."  
  
They reached her parents before Severus could think of a reply. Hermione flinched when Minerva said, "Ah there you are Severus, I've just been tell Mr and Mrs Granger all about you."  
  
The awkward moment passed, and Severus prepared to be civil to his future- in-laws. Neither they nor Hermione knew this as yet; but there was no need to worry them about trivialities like that until closer to the time. Whatever Minerva had been saying, she obviously hadn't mentioned his role as spy, because her parents were still smiling broadly and weren't dragging their daughter away to give her a flea in her ear.  
  
They chatted amiably for a while – something he was aware was causing immense amusement to Harry and Ron – and then the time came for them to leave. He shook Hermione's hand, and wished her all the best, and then watched her and her parents head off to the Hogwarts Express for Hermione's last journey.  
  
"Don't worry," Minerva said, "next week isn't all that far away."  
  
"I suppose not," he replied grumpily.  
  
"And her parents seemed to like you."  
  
He just grunted in reply.  
  
"And I expect it will be a whirlwind romance," added Minerva.  
  
He brightened at that. "That's true."  
  
"And you'll never have to teach Neville Longbottom potions again. So let's go and have a drink in Hogsmeade and celebrate your good fortune."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"And you're paying."  
  
"Bugger."  
  
The End 


End file.
